


Gift Horse

by mogwai_do



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Happy, Masturbation, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 10:01:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/620891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mogwai_do/pseuds/mogwai_do
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things do get better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gift Horse

Martin climbed the steps into his attic and let the door swing closed behind him. In this weather the tiny attic room was actually quite nice: brightly lit by the sun, but with a slight cool breeze filtering through the badly fitting skylight. Pools of sunshine dotted the floorboards and the threadbare rug and, for once, it didn't seem quite so shabby or pathetic. If things continued as they had been, it was entirely possible that he might not even be here much longer. He wasn't sure if he should feel saddened by that fact, but the prospect of living somewhere he didn't have to duct tape the window frames to prevent draughts in winter or didn't have to share a bathroom with six other people was appealing to a degree he could scarcely bear to think about in case it vanished like smoke. 

He'd just shared Sunday lunch with four of the students and he was feeling comfortably full. It hadn't been anything special or complicated, just a roasted chicken with the usual complement of vegetables, roasted potatoes and gravy, but it had been the first time he'd felt able to join in, able to contribute as each of them did. He'd never really been able to afford to pay for something like that, so had never put his name on the rota until now. In two weeks' time it would be his turn to buy and cook their Sunday lunch; he was actually quite looking forward to it. He'd been eating better too, nothing extravagant, but more than he'd used to, more variety too - shopping had become something of an adventure and less of a desperate search to find the reduced price items.

Martin crossed the room and sank onto his single bed; the sunlight slanting down created a block of warmth across his belly and he closed his eyes and just relished the feel of it, knowing there was nowhere he had to be for the rest of the day. His muscles weren't even sore, which was nice. A little voice in the back of his head told him it couldn't last, but with the sun on his skin and a full belly, Martin found it surprisingly easy to ignore - it had lasted six months already and he hadn't seen any sign yet that it was tapering off.

Who'd have thought he'd have Arthur to thank for it, not that he'd ever doubted the steward's goodwill, no-one who'd ever met the man could have done that, but when Arthur had mentioned Martin's man-with-a-van job to his ex-girlfriend when her own car had broken down prior to some event, it had marked a turning point. Martin still wasn't entirely sure what the event had been, save that it had involved horses. It had been a... learning experience, but a well-paid one and then she'd introduced him to her friends.

He wasn't entirely sure how he'd gone from a man-with-a-van to an extra pair of hands around the stables and on call for events. The horses seemed to like him, although it had taken a bit longer for him to return the favour and he'd prefer it if they didn't keep trying to eat his hair; but old insults from Simon lost their sting a little if being 'horse-faced' had actually turned out to be an advantage after all. 

Arthur's ex-girlfriends, and how he had so many Martin had no idea, but it was enough to make even Douglas envious, were nice enough in that slightly distracted way of the rich socialite horsey set, but they paid well and sandwiches were often a part of the deal, even though all he usually was was an extra pair of hands, an extra pair of eyes and capable of the heavy lifting. That's what he'd been doing all yesterday, lugging horse-riding kit around, hanging onto reins while the ladies went off to do... stuff, and brushing out Daisy's coat after a run because Geraldine had to take an important phone call. Still gift horses and all that; he hadn't expected it by any means and he still wasn't entirely sure why they kept hiring him when certainly at least a few of them had general dogsbodies at home anyway, but...

Martin closed his eyes and stretched out in the sunbeam, feeling relaxed for the first time in longer than he cared to think about - so long in fact that it had taken him a moment to realise what the feeling was. He let his hands flop back onto his stomach with a soft grunt, then as an afterthought reached down and popped the button on his jeans - it had been a long time since he'd eaten so well too. His t-shirt had ridden up when he stretched and as he undid the button his fingertips brushed his exposed belly and he gave a tiny shudder at the suddenly sensitive strip of skin.

Blinking up at the skylight, Martin considered for a full thirty seconds; he was warm and relaxed and comfortably full, the sun was shining and he was about as private as he could be in this house. Slowly, still considering, he pushed the t-shirt up his stomach, letting his fingertips drag and enjoying the feel of the sun's warmth creeping up over his belly and chest. He let his fingers drag down again after a moment; it would be better if it were someone else's fingers, but he was under no illusions, if someone else were here he wouldn't be half so relaxed and would probably make a complete mess of it, alone was just fine.

He let his fingertips brush gently back and forth through the sparse hair below his navel, teasing himself by dipping them beneath the loosened waistband of his jeans. He could feel his cock begin to slowly swell now that he had decided to do this. He let his right hand continue to tease as he slid his left hand up and began to draw absent-minded spirals and curls over his stomach and then higher, up to his chest, forcing his t-shirt higher, before dragging his hand back down a little roughly over a nipple which sent a short shiver through him. 

Impatience surged briefly, but he ignored it; he had the time and the inclination to do this properly. He slipped his left hand lower again, feeling the restriction of the denim as his hardening cock pulled the fabric tighter. Well, maybe not that patient. He lifted his left hand to his mouth and traced his lips, flicking his tongue over his fingertips until they were wet with spit, enjoying the taste of skin and the softness of lips and tongue even if they were his own. 

His nipples tightened when he brought his wet fingertips to them; the cool breeze slipping through the skylight pebbling the damp flesh almost immediately. Martin groaned a little, just a rough exhalation really, but he pushed his right hand lower, well into his jeans now, feeling the teeth of the zip dig into the back of his wrist. He let his fingers drag up and down over his cock, the fabric of his underwear diffusing the touch and making him harden more. 

A sudden, sharp gust of wind pushed cool air through the cracks in his window and over his exposed stomach, like a touch, and with a sudden burst of impatience, Martin shoved at the denim and the worn cotton shorts beneath, pushing them down and open just enough to free his cock. He wasn't quite fully hard yet, but almost and with a low hum he wrapped his hand around himself. It felt good, even if the touch was his own, and he set a slow rhythm, feeling himself harden fully. The sun on his skin was lovely and he let his left hand stroke aimlessly through the sunbeam painted on his skin, raising goosebumps when the breeze came again. 

His hips were rolling into the stroke now, but Martin still didn't increase the pace, enjoying the want of it and feeling the slow build. He hummed in pleasure as he danced his fingertips across the head of his cock and felt the first drops of pre-come escape, slicking his fingertips. More slipped down his length to slick his grip and he shuddered a little at the decrease of friction which triggered another little spurt, which made it even slicker like some kind of sexy feedback loop. It all got a bit hazy after that: there was the warmth of the sun on his skin, the tender caress of a cool breeze across his belly, the slick, tight grip of his hand and, and oh oh oh. Oh.

Martin slumped back, breathing hard, his hand still stroking as the last of his climax shivered through him until the wet grip of his hand became too much. He lifted his head a little blearily to look down at himself; shirt rucked up, jeans and underwear shoved down only enough to free his now spent cock, come spattering his stomach and coating his hand. He looked at it absently for a moment before bringing his hand to his lips, absently licking off the evidence of his pleasure as he slowly wound back down and his breathing settled. What he really wanted now was some lazy, sun-soaked snogging, but this was fine too. He'd need to shower later, but sated happiness hummed through his veins and he decided it could wait. And as he drifted gently down towards sleep he thought maybe he'd finally allow himself to believe that things were getting better.

FIN


End file.
